The Enchanter's New Kids (The Ellwood Chronicles #5) - Michele Notaro

Prologue

Ailin

I heard the screaming the second I got out of the car. At first I panicked, but then I took a deep breath and realized that Sebastian would’ve told me through our telepathic bond that something was wrong, so everything must be fine. Well, not fine, since there was screaming, but at the very least, no one was dying.

Get your ass in here! Seb yelled in my head, making me jump and slam the car door shut before rushing up the porch.

The screaming only intensified as I opened the front door, and I realized why Seb had been actively blocking me all day. He and I could access one another’s minds, in a sense, and we were always aware of each other’s emotions and whereabouts. But as soon as I’d walked into the meeting with the head official of our government, Seb had told me everything was fine and immediately blocked me. I trusted him implicitly so I didn’t bother him about it, figuring we’d talk when I got home.

Now I was grateful he’d kept the distraction from me.

Walking deeper into the house, I could hear the baby screaming at the top of his lungs, louder than any cry we’d heard yet. And along with his screaming cries was the sound of a yelling four-year-old as she ran with a blanket strapped around her neck like a cape and her feet sounding like a herd of elephants stomping through the whole house. I stopped in my tracks as I rounded the corner and found an eleven-year-old with her feet up on the couch, a sketchpad in her lap, and earbuds in her ears with Sebastian standing in front of her bouncing the baby and trying to get the pre-teen’s attention.

When Seb turned to me, he looked absolutely exhausted—even more so than when he’d had most of his soul eaten by a damn elder ogre—his hair was sticking up in every direction, he had spit-up on his shoulder and a billion stains on his shirt that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about, and looked just about in tears himself.

Relief flowed through our link as his shoulders sagged at the sight of me, and he marched right over, thrust the baby in my arms, and said, “Never leave me alone with them again.”

I put the baby over my shoulder, patting his back to see if he needed to burp.

Seb backed away quickly with his hands out like he was going to fend me off if I tried to pass the baby back. “He pooped.” He walked over to the changing table and opened up a new package of diapers, saying over his shoulder to the eleven-year-old, “Was it really that difficult to help open these?” Then he ran past me, yelling over the screaming, “Good luck with that. I’m taking a shower… where I can cry in peace.” The last part was said to himself, but I’d caught it through our link. He grimaced in my direction, then disappeared up the stairs.

The four-year-old ran right up to me and punched me in the thigh, making me yell out. “Ow! Why would you do that?” What the hell?

“I’m a superhero,” she said before screaming at the top of her lungs and running away again.

I called after her, “You don’t hit people!”

“But you’re a bad guy! Good guys hit the bad guys!”

When did she become so violent? Before I could yell at her, the eleven-year-old pulled an earbud out, pointed at me, and said, “You’ve got baby puke dripping off your shoulder, and I’m pretty sure there’s poop coming out the back of his pants.”

Looking down, I wrinkled my nose as I examined the poop that was now on my hands. “Aw shit.”

“You said a bad word!” was yelled a moment before I got another punch to my thigh.

“Ow! Don’t hit me! You’re going on time out!”

“Not if you can’t catch me!”

My eyes widened at the bratty response, and I watched the four-year-old superhero run away, but the baby burped and I felt more puke being added to my shoulder, so I didn’t run after her. “Shit. Can you please go grab your sister?”

The eleven-year-old shrugged, acted as if I hadn’t asked for her help, and stuffed her earbud back in.

“Not cool,” I muttered as I rushed over to the changing table. Seb, when are you coming back down?

Never.

Sebastian. Come on.

I swear to god, Ailin. I’ve had them all day, you can deal with them for twenty minutes while I take a shower